


It will be this, now and forever

by Nitro_fizz



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death, Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by The Song of Achilles, M/M, Or is there?, song of achilles au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29225178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitro_fizz/pseuds/Nitro_fizz
Summary: DNF but Song of Achilles inspired because I recently finished itGeorge - Patroclus // Dream - Achilles // Nikki - Briseis // Schlatt - Agamemnon // Philza - Odysseus // Techno - Hector
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 1
Collections: Mcyt





	1. We had been two

**Author's Note:**

> Tried following the Song of Achilles writing style I think this might be the best I could do. The style advances as the chapters go by I think.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We were like gods at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other”

“I could recognize him by touch alone,

  
by smell;

I would know him blind, 

By the way his breaths came 

  
And his feet struck the earth”

  
  
  
“George” 

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been enclosed within his mind for.   
  


Turning around to answer. His breath hitches, as he is thrown under the watchful eyes of someone like Dream.

Unfair. Unfair. Unfair.   
  


It was all he could think.   
  


Yet there was never any trace of jealousy behind such thoughts. Thoughts that could more likely be connected to desire.

Want. Want. Want.

Want of things he was sure he could not have.   
  


No, things he simply did not deserve.   
  


Dream was a hero. He was as fast as he was strong. He’d been admired since the moment he surfaced. A god among men. It’s as if he held no flaws. No error within his design. In simple, he was everything George wasn’t. Had everything George hadn’t.   
  


It’s why it was so frustrating. George had relentlessly watched Dream for months, hoping to find even the slightest hint of a flaw. Something his anger could hold on to.   
  


Yet, he didn’t. In fact, the more George had observed Dream. He couldn’t help but to begin to love every aspect of Dream he’d tried so hard to hate.   
  


A stupid string of hope began to embed itself within George’s mind. Dream was everything George wasn’t. Had everything George didn’t. It felt as if maybe Dream was everything George needed to be complete.   
  


Yes, George needed Dream.

But, did Dream need him?   
  


“I asked what it is that’s bothering you” he asked. Had he been speaking to him this whole time?   
  


“Nothing. I’m just thinking” he responded.

”No, something’s bothering you. The bridge of your nose always scrunches up when you’re in discomfort” he adds. His tone more firm and demanding than before.   
  


Oh.

George could feel as his face began to heat up.   
  


It seems...

George hadn’t been the only one observing.   
  


He pauses, thinking of what to say.

  
“It’s about your mother” he lies.   
  


“You’re lying” he retorts.   
  


George flinches.   
  


Facing away he responds.   
  


“It’s about you” he whispers.   
  


“What?” He asks, moving closer towards him.

”ITS ABOUT YOU!” He yells, looking at Dream. Face flushing once more. He feels his complexion might match that of a pomegranate at the moment.

How embarrassing.   
  


“About me?” He repeats. A grin slowly beginning to replace his confused expression.   
  


“Never mind” he says, crossing his arms and facing away.   
  


“No no, I’m sorry” he says. “Continue continue” he changes his face expression back to neutral. “What is it about me?” He asks.

”I was thinking...” he hesitates.   
  


“Clay” he pauses.   
  


“What am I worth to you?” He finally manages to draw out.   
  


Dream pauses. Eyes widening only by a sliver. Barely noticeable to anyone, George was the exception. Constantly watching Dream.   
  
  
George always relished in being the only one to be able to read Dream’s true moods. Dream always held a facade with everyone. It’s what he’s been polished to do since birth. Hero’s are meant to stay within the people’s good tastes after all.

“What do you mean George?” He asks. His expression turning into a frown. 

“Why me?” He asks, voice laced with a hint of desperation in wanting to know what Dream truly keeps him around for. 

Dream is a warrior. He’s been prophesied to become a legend. A great hero among the Greeks. He’ll hold his place in Elysium. Along the best of the best. In the ranks of Greek’s mightiest heroes. That’s where Dream belongs. 

  
But...

George is nothing like him...

He’s no fighter. In terms of strength. It’d be more convenient for Dream to have chosen Sapnap as his companion instead. Those two together would dominate the battlefield and their victories would be spoken of in stories for centuries. Long after they’re gone.   
  


In terms of strategy. He would’ve been well off with Quackity instead. The man may act a fool but it’s all just an act. They’re all aware of just how intelligent he really is. If he were Dream’s companion instead. Victory would come as easy to Dream as playing the lyre. He’d be quick and precise.   
  


The list could keep going on. There had been better people than George who had been desperately trying to earn their place by Dream’s side.   
  


Yet for some reason, Dream had chosen him.   
  


When George had nothing to give.   
  


“I don’t know” he says. Voice flat. As he lies back down.   
  


George couldn’t help but flinch. How could he not know?   
  


“You’re interesting George” he states as he looks towards him.   
  


Looking towards Dream he arches his brows into a questioning glare.

”Tell me...” he stops, grabbing onto George’s wrist and tugging him towards himself.   
  
George’s stance goes rigid. He stills, turning away.

He pulls once more. Harsher this time.   
  


George is practically thrown onto the floor. He only avoids slamming his head onto the ground because Dream puts a hand gently under his head. He places his other arm near George’s head. His legs on either side of him. Trapping George in place.   
  


“What am I worth to you?” He whispers. Leaning closer to George. Noses brushing together.  
  


At that moment. George isn’t sure where the surge of confidence comes from. Nonetheless, he raises his hand forward to cup the side of Dream’s face.   
  


“You’re worth more than anything I can offer” he whispers.   
  


“You’re worth more than anything I could ever have” Dream replies without hesitance. Pushing closer to George so their foreheads are touching. Dream is able to see George’s eyes more clearly from this angle.   
  


Always a warm shade of brown. From afar they look simple and dull. But closeup you could see as the different shades of brown all clashed together. Little specks of gold shining their way through.   
  


Only Dream knows this. This is the way he likes it. He wants more. He craves to know every single part of him. Craves to know parts nobody else would be allowed to.  
  


He wonders if George would let him.   
  


Gently letting go of George’s head, he brings his hand to George’s face. His hand hovers over his face waiting for approval.   
  


It’s given to him when George slowly nods, maintaining eye contact.   
  


Lowering his hand, Dream can’t help himself as he slowly traces George’s facial features with the pads of his fingertips. Slowly going lower to his neck, to his chest, his abdomen. Before he feels the reaction he’d been waiting for.   
  


Dream listens as George’s breath hitches. Feels as George shivers underneath him.   
  


Before he can move his hand any lower.   
  


“Stop” he says firmly.   
  


Dream doesn’t have to. They both know this. It would be easy to overpower him. Dream is part god after all.  
  


Regardless, he pauses. Dream would give George everything and more.   
  


Looking up, he makes eye contact with George. Both staring at each other before George makes the first move. Carefully placing both hands to cup Dream’s face. Bringing his face closer to his.   
  


It feels like an eternity as they wait for the other to make their move.   
  


It’s George who ends up growing impatient, surging forward.   
  


It’s soft and chaste at first. George can’t help but giggle. His mother used to pepper kisses on his face oh so softly before.   
  


The pressure is similar but the intimacy is different. Trying to find a word for it, he doesn’t notice as he begins to unfocus. Only realizing when he feels something slide on his bottom lip.   
  


George simply allows Dream the control. He always has.   
  


  
Touch. Touch. Touch.   
  


His mind is overwhelmed. He can feel Dream everywhere.   
  


Body to body with nothing in the way. When had they gotten rid of their tunics. He doesn’t know. Does he need to?   
  


Dream. Dream. Dream.   
  


It’s all he can think. All he can feel. He can no longer tell whether it’s simply his thoughts anymore or if he’s saying it out loud. Does it matter?   
  


He can’t tell.   
  


There’s nothing else. He can’t tell anymore.   
  


Dream. Dream. Dream.   
  


It was only them.   
  
  


“It will be this,

Always,

For as long as he will let me”

“For eternity” 

The world fell silent  
  


And for a moment  
  


It was just us

  
Me and you

  
We had been two


	2. Two became one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you have to go, know I will go with you”

“I would know him in death,

At the end of the world”

  
  
  


Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn.   
  


Had he always been this stubborn?   
  


Maybe he had, but George had always turned a blind eye so he had just never noticed.   
  


That’s a lie. He knows. George knows how certain aspects of Dream’s personality had always been frowned upon. He could never bring himself to care. George loved every part of Dream. He’d always cherished the little moments and details. His good and bad. Only George knew all of it. Only he knew who Dream really was. He’d had to discover him. Fragment by fragment.

George cannot let it go unnoticed this time around however. Not when so many of his comrades are putting their lives on the line.   
  


Dream just wouldn’t budge on his resolve. He’d refrained from fighting after Schlatt had taken Nikki away.

It was a mark on his honor. That’s what Dream had said.   
  


The myrmidons would follow Dream to the ends of the earth. If he refused to fight, so would they.   
  


They were a strong army. Once they’d stopped fighting, the tides began to turn against the Greeks. The Trojan armies had begun growing closer and closer.   
  


Philza had tried convincing Dream to return to fighting many times already to no avail. Dream’s resolve was firm. He would not fight until he was returned what was “rightfully his”. Or so he would say.   
  


With no other choice, Philza turned towards George. If anyone could get him to fight it’d have to be him. Right?  
  


George had remained silent. He would always support Dream. He was his companion after all. Wherever he went, whatever he did, George would follow. In return, Dream would give him anything he’d ever ask. They would grant the world to each other.   
  


Yet when George had begged Dream to fight he had refused.   
  


“You know I’d give everything to you and so much more. However, as things are, this is the only thing I cannot do. Anything else but this” is all Dream had said.   
  


As the voices seemed to be growing louder and closer, George began to panic.   
  


“YOU HAVE TO FIGHT!” he begs. Growing more and more desperate.  
  


“I cannot” he solemnly replies.

  
”You know why” he adds. His eyes turning to George in a pleading manner. Was he pleading George understand why he was refusing?   
  


“Dream, they’ll die out there. You know this” he cries.

Dream gently places his hands on George. Cupping his face. Pulling him closer. Putting their foreheads together.   
  


“George you know that I love you. Yet, I cannot fight, you know this” he whispers. Like he was begging George to simply drop the topic because his answer would be the same. He would not break what he’d promised to Schlatt. He would not fight. This would not change. Not even for George.  
  


Placing his hands over Dream’s, he pulls his hands away from him. He looks away. Anywhere but Dream.   
  
However, Dream is many things. Unfortunately for George, persistent is one of them. So he gently pulls George towards him once again. 

His eyes remain on the stand in the corner of their tent. Thinking, before his eyes begin to widen.   
  


“You will fight today” George says.   
  


Dream sighs, opening his mouth to speak again before George interrupts him.   
  


“You can be on the battlefield but still remain true to your word” he says. Gently pulling away from Dream. Walking towards the armor in the corner.   
  


Dream gives him a bewildered look.   
  


“I can wear your armor in your stead. From afar no one will be able to see me clearly. They’ll only see your armor. If they see your armor, the myrmidons will fight” he clarifies. Gently sliding his fingers across the chest plate.   
  


“No” Dream states simply.   
  


“Why not. This way we’ll both end up with what we want” he says, growing a little irritated.   
  


“It is too dangerous George” he says. Getting irritated as well.

”I’ll be okay. I might not even have to fight!” he answers.   
  


“This is war George” he says, pointing an unamused look towards him.   
  


“All I have to do is show your armor on the battlefield that is all” he says.   
  


“Clay, I will come back to you” he whispers.

”You know I always do” he finishes, cupping Dream’s face.   
  


“It is too dangerous” he whispers. Pushing his body closer to George’s. Hoping if he pushed hard enough it would allow them to become one. To keep him safe by his side for eternity. Even after death.   
  


“Clay” he begins. 

“Do you trust me?” He sighs, pushing their faces closer.   
  


“Why ask if you know” he responds. Letting George go.

Walking to the armor stand he can’t help feeling sick. His whole body trembling with nerves. He does not want to let him go. He can’t.

But...

He trusts him. Yes of course he does.   
  
He sighs. 

He also trusts his men to keep him safe. George might have a point. He always does. Dream knows not to underestimate the myrmidons. They’re strong enough to keep the fight on them. Strong enough to leave George in the sidelines.   
  


Right?   
  
No. No. No.

Clasping the last bits of armor onto George he feels panic begin to set in. He doesn’t want to send him out there. He shouldn’t have to be out there. If Dream could only fight.   
  


No...

He can’t. He can’t break his resolve. George is smart. He will come back to him. Yes he will. 

  
He will. He will. He will.   
  


He’s crushing George, he knows it. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to let go. He can’t help the feeling of dread. He doesn’t want to let go.   
  


Why does he feel like he’s saying goodbye.   
  


George is going to come back. He swore to Dream that he’d make him the first Greek hero to be happy. He promised.   
  


He promised. He promised. He promised.   
  
George would not lie to him.

Feeling a hand slide over his cheek brings him back to his senses.   
  


George was in front of him crying. Why was he crying? Oh. He notices the warmth on his face. Sliding his own hand on his face he realizes he had been crying as well.   
  


Bringing George’s face closer to his. Pushing forward. Kissing him gently. As if he could break at the slightest touch. Pushing away, he holds George close.

”You will come back” he says, pulling away. His tone firm.  
  


“Always” he answers, smiling. Kissing Dream once more before putting on the helmet. Turning around to leave. 

  
“There was more to say, but for once we did not say it. There would be other times for speaking, tonight and tomorrow, and all the days after that. He let go of my hand”  
  


Dream doesn’t miss the absence of assurance. He tries to ignore why George didn’t promise. 

Embarking the chariot, he looks towards Dream once more before smiling towards him. He turns around beginning to tear up. He was scared. He knew it was dangerous but without Dream what other choice did he have.   
  


This was the only way.   
  


Right? Right? Right?   
  


The myrmidons roar at the return of their leader. Already prepared to fight. It does not take long before they reach the battlefield. The fight has been brought to them after all.   
  


Maneuvering the chariot cautiously. He wonders if anyone notices Dream’s lack of fight. Surely not.   
  


He begins to unfocus with panic. He’s gasping for air. He knows this. He’s scared. He’s aware.   
  


A spear misses his head by a sliver. Hitting a soldier behind him.   
  


No. No. No. 

He shouldn’t fight. He can’t. He looks around. Death’s shadow is far more persistent today. He feels his presence near. He shouldn’t fight. He can’t.

So why do his hands instinctively reach for a spear. Launching it without thinking.   
  


It hits its target. The death is instant.   
  


More spears follow not far behind. Soldiers falling in masses. One by one. Yet the numbers quickly rising. What’s going on?   
  


Oh.   
  


It’s his doing.   
  


He gasps for air. This is no longer panic. No. It’s pure elation.   
  


Is this what Dream feels like. Every time he fights. Is this what he feels? He’s smiling. He can tell.   
  


The chariot falls but he does not stop. He knows he should turn back. Yet he can’t.

He’s in pure ecstasy. Doesn’t even notice as he gets closer and closer to the walls. Doesn’t notice as the crowd around thins out more and more.   
  


Exhilaration. It’s all he can feel. All he can see. His mind is foggy and clouded. Nothing else but him.   
  


He could end this war. Right then and there. Dream would live. They could go back home. He’d said he’d be the first hero to be happy. This was it. If he could just get closer.   
  


If he could just be able to reach it.   
  
He collapses.   
  


Hot.   
  


It burns. It burns. It burns.   
  


He’s gasping for air once more. Only this time it isn’t in excitement. He’s in agony. He can’t breathe. What’s going on.   
  


Distantly, he hears screaming. The screams sound painful. He doesn’t know what’s going on. His focus wavers. His vision starts to blur. What’s going on.   
  


His focus is brought back when the burn he feels comes back stronger and more fierce. He looks down. There’s something coming out of him.   
  


A spear.   
  
The realization hits. The screams belonged to him. He’d just been hit.

When had he gotten hit? By who?  
  


It moves again.   
  


It hurts.   
  


Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.   
  


His helmet is pulled off and thrown away harshly. He hears someone gasp. He looks up.   
  


Techno.   
  


No. No. No. 

The storyline completes. He knows now why. Why everything is to happen. What makes his horrible fate.   
  


His eyes begin to blur once more. He’s growing tired. He’s struggling to move. The spear still pinning him down. Rendering him unable to move.  
  


Stop it George. Stop it.   
  


Get up. Get up. Get up.   
  


You cannot be his downfall. He is to be someone great. It can’t be taken from him. You can’t let it.   
  


Get up. Get up. Get up.   
  


His body is too heavy. He can’t move anything.   
  


Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.   
  


He hears something. No. Someone. Someone is yelling. It’s him. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.   
  


Dream. Dream. Dream.   
  


No.   
  


Clay. Clay. Clay.   
  


He wants to see him. This can’t be it.   
  


Open your eyes George. Open them.   
  


He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.   
  


He can’t fight anymore.   
  


This isn’t fair.   
  


It’s not. It’s not. It’s not.   
  


Please. Please. Please.   
  


Let him see him one more time.   
  


If the gods could be gracious enough to grant him one last wish. Please let it be this.   
  


  
Nothing.   
  


Nothing.   
  


Nothing.

His eyes shoot open. Hearing the painful screams of Dream.   
  


Why is he screaming. Stop it. He can’t bear to hear him like this. Stop him.   
  


He turns. Looks down.  
  


Oh.   
  


That’s why.   
  


There in Dream’s arms.   
  


Lies George.   
  


There was nothing  
  


The raging war silent  
  


It had been us  
  


Me and you  
  


We had been two  
  


Two turned to one

  
No one but you 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to speed run my way through this one trying to connect the pieces so it’d make sense. It does not


End file.
